


wherever you're going, I'm going that way (the same, the same)

by marauderas



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, it should be noted that the sq is very mild and not explicitly established, so like. mad archer with a side of sq
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 02:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marauderas/pseuds/marauderas
Summary: “I wouldn’t mind, going back to these places one more time. In the right company, that is.”A huge grin spreading across her face, Robin echoes, “In the right company, of course.”or, the proposal fic





	wherever you're going, I'm going that way (the same, the same)

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even know what to say except for the following things: a) i've been a wreck of emotions since i started catching up on s7 three days before the finale, b) the finale both ruined and saved me, and c) these two are Everything.
> 
> so, um. i guess i did know what to say.
> 
> thanks to evie and shelbi for putting up with me through it, and shelbs--this one's for you.
> 
> will probably come back and fix tomorrow, but for now: read on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It shouldn’t be this difficult.

It _shouldn’t_.

She has Nook’s blessing and enough time has passed since they got back, and Regina was just coronated, and—

And she _loves_ Alice.

God, she loves Alice; loves her curious mind and how her eyes glimmer so bright in the moonlight that Robin could swear she can see each of the seven seas in them; loves her generous, open heart and waking up next to her as the sun seeps through worn blinds in her childhood bedroom.

Still, navigating life post-curse is proving to be harder than they thought it would be. They end up in Storybrooke because, out of all the places that have come together in this New Realm that unites all and any realm, it’s the one place that resembles their latest (albeit, _cursed_ ) home the most.

But Robin buzzes with familiar uneasiness, and Alice does, too, she notices, although she keeps quiet about it, and Robin fears it must be awfully hard to cling to normalcy when normalcy has done nothing but turn on them as of late.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Where’s Alice?” Regina asks in the kitchen.

Small, velvet box turning in her hand as she sits on the edge of the couch, and thoughts somewhere else entirely, Robin leaves it to her mother to reply.

“She’s at the station bringing lunch to her father, who by the way will be dropping by after his shift. She should be back any minute now, though, unless she gets distracted and wanders off.”

“Just what this town needed,” Regina sighs. “Two Hooks in law enforcement.”

Ever the poor diplomat, Zelena snorts. “To be fair, one of them does have experience in the field.”

“ _Cursed_ experience.”

“So what? Are your bartending skills any less of a skill now that we’ve been un-cursed?”

“Of course not,” Regina counters, a little bit too briskly. “Not quite the same, though.”

“Need I remind you that your beloved sheriff is a former _felon_?”

“And need I remind you that at least half of us are reformed criminals?”

“You know, Alice’s father also happens to be the less grating version of the pirates. Surely you could arrange to have one of them transferred to—oh, I don’t know—Agrabah, now that you’re Queen and all?”

Regina scoffs at the suggestion, and Robin smiles to herself, gaze fixed on the velvet box now placed on the coffee table and staring back at her in all the ways an inanimate object can stare back.

Instinctively, she wonders if Alice has ever been to Agrabah and makes a mental note to ask her later, but before she can’t move past that thought there’s the click of heels approaching and she’s snatching the box from the table and shoving it into the pocket of her cloak.

Eyebrow arching, Regina freezes for a moment before shortening the distance to the couch.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

“Enough of what?”

“ _Sulking_ ,” she says, and Robin automatically straightens her spine. Old habits. “You’ve had her father’s blessing since the Final Battle and you’ve been carrying around that ring for months now. What’s taking so long?”

Robin sighs. “I’m… waiting, I guess.”

“Waiting for what?”

“I don’t _know_.”

“Robin—”

“It’s not _right_ yet, it’s not…” She looks up, swallows. “I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

“My darling girl,” Regina says, and Robin could have sworn there’s the flicker of regret in her eyes, “there’s no such thing as the right moment.”

Of course she knows that, she _does_ , but there has also been so much pain and lost time and uncertainty that she thinks they deserve this one thing.

Just this one perfect thing amidst the lingering chaos, amidst the clearing fog.

Softly, Regina pushes, “What’s really going on?” and after months of keeping it all neatly bottled up, Robin can feel herself coming undone right there and then, as if their entire family wasn’t about to walk through the door any moment now.

“Nothing’s going on,” she grits.

(She tries.)

“Honey—”

She swallows even harder now, eyes stinging with unwelcome tears, and wills herself to look up to the ceiling before answering.

“The curse, it—” She draws a breath, then meets Regina’s gaze with slightly hardened eyes. “Did you know that it forced her to take pills so she wouldn’t remember? She’s told me about it, about how every time she’d go without them long enough things would become so much clearer, so much more _vivid_ , and she would _almost_...” She trails off, hand clutching around the box in her pocket. “She has nightmares,” she says. Then, chuckling dryly: “I do, too, actually, but nowhere near as bad.”

Regina smiles like she understands at last, smiles like she _knows_ , and, “You’ll be alright, both of you,” she assures before pressing a kiss to Robin’s temple. “I promise, you will.”

Nodding slightly, Robin asks, “Yeah?” and the sheer desperation for that to be true bleeds onto the single syllable.

“Yes,” she assures pointedly. “You’re a Mills, Robin, and Millses always find a way. Now take off your cloak, darling. We’re indoors.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So how do you like Storybrooke so far?” Emma asks.

She had driven past Alice on her way back to the manor just as the girl was leaving the police station and offered her a ride, and the girl had only hesitated for a split second before getting into the car and offering Emma a pastry from her paper bag that had caused the sheriff’s entire face to light up.

Tearing her gaze from the landscape passing by, Alice turns to Emma from the passenger seat. She gives a small shrug. “It’s alright. It doesn’t buzz quite as the Heights, but I fancy that, I think.”

“Buzz?”

“Yeah, beneath the ground. The buzzing doesn’t run as deep.”

Emma smiles, more to herself than at Alice, and concedes, “I think I know what you mean.”

“Might have been the curse.”

“The curse?”

“The buzzing, back in the Heights.”

“Probably, yeah.” She glances quickly at Alice before focusing on the road again. “Now that you mention it, I do recall Storybrooke kinda pulsating beneath the concrete when I first got here. Didn’t know what it meant back then, though.”

Eyes wandering back out the window, Alice nods in understanding, and they fall into easy silence for the rest of the ride, until Emma has pulled up by the manor and turned off the engine, and—

“I’ve been here before,” Alice says.

“In Storybrooke?”

“In this car.”

Emma grins. “So I’ve heard.”

They go quiet for another moment, this interlude being filled by the noises seeping off the manor and all the people already there and waiting. Emma waits, too.

“I made a wish, you know?” Alice admits after a while. “A lone candle on my birthday, and then—” She glances away. “I made a wish, and a troll broke me out of my prison.” Emma’s lips part, but Alice hurries to add, “A _kind_ troll, despite what people so stubbornly claimed. People always claim too much about things they don’t understand, anyway.”

Voice bordering complicity, Emma tells her, “I made a wish, too.”

At once, Alice turns to look at her, eyes wide.

“Upon a candle?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it blue?”

“Oh, yes.”

Alice goes quiet for another moment, and then: “Did a troll break you out, as well?”

Emma bursts into laughter. “Not really. But I was set free, one way or another, right after.” She nudges Alice’s shoulder with her own. “Had some help finding my way home.”

Face breaking into an easier smile, Alice says, “Me, too.” Her eyes wander towards the manor. “First the troll, and then a brave girl with a bow.”

“Ah. Sounds like quite the girl.”

“She is.”

Emma hums. “She’s a Mills,” she says. Alice’s gaze latches onto hers, brow furrowing like she’s trying to decipher where this is all going. “Robin? She’s a Mills. They’re kinda good at that, at leading you home.”

“Yeah,” Alice says with a lingering smile, gaze dropping to her lap. “They really are.”

“You know, we could really use someone like you.”

Perking up, Alice echoes, “Like me?”

“Yeah, I mean—you’ve been around, no?” Wordlessly, Alice nods. “Here’s the thing: this is still very new to lots of people, and we can’t pretend like the bad guys are gonna vanish just because the realms were brought together. They _would_ , ideally, but they probably won’t. I could use someone who helps me find people around the realms.”

“You want my help?”

“Only if you’re up for it.”

A grin spreading across her face, Alice says, “I’d love that. Puts my mad skills to use.”

“Damn right. Alright, let’s go. I’m _starving_.”

“Oh, me too. Positively famished.”

Head ducking, Alice gets out of the car, a small smile on her face as she glances back at Emma over the roof. The front door opens as they’re walking up the brick path, and Alice greets Regina before breezing inside. Emma, however, lingers by the porch, bites her bottom lip in thought.

“Everything alright?” Regina asks, swaying closer.

“Yeah, sure, I—” She shakes her head. “It’s just, she reminds me of someone, you know?” Emma says, a wistful tone to her voice.

Regina breathes, “I do,” without tearing her gaze from the sheriff, and Emma looks up again with a smile.

“How’s the kid doing today?”

“Henry? He’s… getting there. For someone who grew up with your parents, he’s having a lot of trouble being around them at the moment.”

“Well, he did think they were dead. And this place is… so different. We’re all so different to what he thought was real.”

“We are.” She pauses, studying Emma as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Emma, what is it?”

“Do you think they’ll be alright? Robin and Alice, do you think they’ll be okay?”

“I really do.”

Emma nods, shoulders dropping. “So…” She sways even closer, fingers grazing Regina’s wrist. “I kind of offered Alice a job.”

“Kind of?”

“Alright, I most definitely offered her a job.”

Regina chuckles. “What sort of job?”

“Oh, you know. Just, uh…. finding people.” She glances away, then looks back with a small wince. “Across the realms, maybe?”

“Is that so?” Regina asks suggestively.

“What?”

“Nothing, only that a moment ago I heard Ella asking Robin to tag along for the next recon mission.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of course, Henry—being the nosy romantic that he is when he hasn’t been cursed into being an overly pragmatic person—gets involved as well.

“Heard you were having some trouble popping the question,” he says, dropping onto the seat next to hers on the terrace and wearing the most obnoxious of smirks.

“Great,” Robin bites. “Let’s bring the whole family up to speed, shall we? I think Hope might have some advice too. Aunt Regina, why don’t you go fetch her so that she can offer some wisdom on the matter?”

“Oh, hush,” Zelena says, stepping outside. “She just fell asleep, that mighty little demon.”

Ever the mediator, Henry keeps grinning at her. “You know, I do have some experience in the area.”

“The area being…?”

“Fairytale-like proposals.”

Robin rolls her eyes with a groan, gaze landing on Alice and Lucy running around the garden while a brooding younger Henry glares at them from his spot between Regina and Emma.

At once, she feels all fight and irritation draining out of her, a soothing balm coursing through her veins at the mere sight of Alice being able to run around without carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“I don’t want the fairytale,” Robin says quietly.

“What do you want, then?”

“Just… just her.”

“Then that’s exactly what you should say.” He winks at her, and, “Take it from someone who’s done this before,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Ella says from behind them, eyes trained on her hand of cards as they both crane their necks to look at her, “because he was so sure of himself when he proposed, that Henry Mills.”

Across from her, Tiana snickers. “Not at all a nervous wreck, I heard,” she adds, putting down a card and causing Ella to run a hand down her face, groaning.

“ _Again_?” she asks the queen. “You said you’d never played!”

“Hey!” Henry protests, still on the previous topic. “I was… breezy enough. And I had just come home from a near death experience, mind you. Context is crucial here. C’mon, Nook, tell ‘em.”

Taking a swig of his beer, Nook offers half-heartedly, “The lad did almost die, my ladies.”

They all proceed to burst into laughter, except for Nook whose gaze is on Robin, and Robin who strings together a smile, eyes following her girlfriend as she dashes barefoot through the freshly cut grass, the evening sun in her hair and Lucy and Neal not far behind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone but Emma and the baby leave, and Regina waves off the party by the porch with young Henry lingering right behind in the foyer.

“Do you lovebirds want a poof home?” Zelena asks.

Automatically, Robin turns to Alice, who shrugs in response. “I don’t mind walking. It’s quite lovely tonight.”

Robin grins before turning back to her mother. “We’ll walk, Mom. See you at home?”

She says, “Will do. Ta-ta!” before being gone in a cloud of green smoke, and Nook chuckles, mutters something about a flair for the dramatic under his breath.

“Good night, Starfish,” he says, pressing a kiss to Alice’s temple. Then, turning to the other girl with a warm smile on his face: “Good night, Robin.”

They say their goodnights to the rest of their family then part ways towards the farmhouse, and Robin pretends to not notice how apprehension sits on her chest, how it usually gets worse when the sky is shifting to its darkest shade. But Alice’s hand is warm in hers as they walk home, and Robin feels, once again, that it might be the safest place she’s ever been: right by Alice’s side.

They’re entering the small woods before the fields when Alice hums to herself, glancing around the trees like she’s searching for something beyond.

“What is it?” Robin asks.

“This new realm encasing all and any realms, it’s quite overwhelming, isn’t it?”

“That’s one awfully mild way to put it, yeah.”

“Loads of people. Loads of new and old people.”

Edging the lake, Robin stops in her tracks, tugging gently at Alice’s hand so that they come face to face. The moon is full above them and the tip of Alice’s nose glows as the light filters through the tall trees.

“Alright, out with it. What is it?”

Looking fairly torn, Alice bites her lip before saying, “Emma offered me a job.”

“Oh?”

“She wants me to find people. Across the realms? She wants my help.”

“Like a bounty-hunter?”

She nods. “Says they could use someone like me. Like Alice, that is, not Tilly. Because Alice has been around and all, and Tilly only knew the Heights.”

“Do you… do you want to travel the realms?”

“I want to do something that… I want to help get other people out of their towers, and catching the ones that might be doing the imprisoning sounds like a good start, doesn’t it? But I don’t know if I want to go away, no. Not right now, not yet.”

Realization dawns on Robin, and she thinks she understands.

“Are you worried about us?” Slowly, Alice nods. “Hey, no. Even if you go, you’ll come back to me, won’t you?”

“ _Always_.”

“Then there’s nothing to be worried about.”

Alice blows out an exasperated breath, and, “You’ve been having nightmares,” she says at last.

“I—what? _You_ have been having nightmares.”

“Oh, I always do. But I don’t mind them anymore, haven’t for a while. As long as I’m with you.”

Relief washing over her, Robin finally allows herself to exhale. “Good. Because I don’t mind them, either.” Then, giving her a look: “As long as I’m with you.” She leans in, lips pressing against Alice’s smile, and adds, “You know, Ella asked me to do recon with them.”

“She did?”

“Uh-huh. Maybe I could join you sometime, do some recon. Eat some food, fight some mobs. If you don’t mind showing me around?”

She thinks back to the Heights and the forest were they first met and fell in love, thinks back to how Margot has seen so much, and Alice has seen so much, yet neither of them felt like being still until they met Tilly, until they met Robin.

“I wouldn’t mind, going back to these places one more time. In the right company, that is.”

A huge grin spreading across her face, Robin echoes, “In the right company, of course.”

Alice glances around once more, the air between them shifting as she steps back, hand untangling from Robin’s and leaving her inexplicably cold all of a sudden. As if the space between them holds meanings that she isn’t aware of just yet.

“It was a rather good idea, bringing the realms together,” Alice says. “Clever one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Everybody can be found, if they wish to, see? But it doesn’t…” She trails off, unsure. “This place doesn’t change—” Alice draws a breath in the chilly night, hands wringing unconsciously. “I don’t mind the nightmares, but my bad days, they’ll keep coming, and I’ll fall fall fall down the rabbit hole, down—”

“I love you,” Robin says, earnest, and steps forward. “Alice, do you hear me? I love you always.” She smiles through the lump in her throat, smiles through the sudden, grim uncertainty stretching between them. “ _Especially_ during bad days.”

Alice nods silently, eyes fixed anywhere but near Robin. It’s clear that she heard her (she always does) but that doesn’t erase the shadows flickering in her eyes when she meets Robin’s gaze again.

“I love you, too. More than I’ve ever loved… anyone, really. More than I ever will.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“This is your home,” she says at last. “Your family’s here. I wouldn’t want to—the last thing I wish is to take it away from you, the way it was taken from me.”

“Hey, no. That would never happen, alright? You’re my family, too. And home isn’t a place. It never was, not for us.”

“Not for us,” Alice echoes, her entire stance more relaxed as she utters the words.

They stand in silence for a moment, Robin turning the box in her pocket, until Alice gives a rich laugh, says—

“It called me.”

“What did?”

“The tower, it kept calling me. But then I met you.” There’s a wistful note to her voice, lips curving into a weak smile. “A girl with a bow. A new Robin. The only one I ever knew.”

“Alice—”

“The only one that matters to me.”

Reaching for Alice’s hand once more, Robin says, “You’re the only one that matters to me, too.”

“‘You’re kinda hard to miss’, you said. Back in the Heights? You wore glasses, and my lips wore another name for you.”

Robin smiles. “I remember.”

“You saw me when I didn’t even see myself,” Alice says. “You’ve been seeing me ever since our paths crossed and you pointed an arrow to my head.”

“Alice, what—” She frowns. “What’s this about?”

“My whole life was a haphazard turn of events,” she says, nose scrunching. “Being imprisoned in that tower, and losing Papa, and—” She draws a breath. “I was never certain, I was never quite certain, was I, and then I got out, and then you caught me in that cage, and--”

“Alice—”

Grinning broadly, Alice quips, “And you _caught_ me. And I never got lost again, because even under the curse, I was on my way to you. You ground me, like an anchor to Papa’s ship. I might sway away every now and then, but you… you ground me, New Robin. Nobin. So yes, I will always come back to you.” She gives a small, adorable shrug. “I want to live all my days with you.”

Spurred by the rampant joy barreling into her chest, Robin’s closes the distance between them and kisses her hard, kisses her more, kisses her for all the times she couldn’t and all the time she will. “You ground me, too,” she says. Then, almost a whisper against Alice’s lips, foreheads pressed together: “Tower Girl.”

They pull away grinning at each other, the lake breaking into gentle, shimmering waves by their feet, and Robin thinks that, well. This moment is as good as any, as perfect as it’ll get today (there’ll be a perfect moment tomorrow, she realizes now, and once again the day after that, and the one after that).

She reaches into her coat, too busy trying to gather her thoughts in time to notice Alice in front of her, and by the time she looks up, box in hand—

“Oh my goodness,” Alice gasps, gaze on the fireflies ascending around them, circling them as she whirls around and around, her skirt whirling, too, and cutting through the night. “Are you seeing this, Robin?”

Across from her, Robin’s heart pounds furiously against her ribcage, threatening to break free at the mere sound of Alice’s laughter. She stands perfectly still, stands perfectly quiet, and clutches the box in her hand, wondering if there might be entire constellations hiding in Alice’s clear eyes, wondering if the ring of Alice’s voice would be enough to sustain her for the rest of her life.

(She thinks there are. She thinks it is.)

Alice ceases, and, “Robin, did you--” she starts, turning around, but freezes at the sight of Robin flipping open the box and getting down on one knee. “Oh my god.”

From the ground, Robin whispers a strangled, “Turns out, I want to live all my days with you, too.”

“Robin—”

“Alice, will you—”

“ _Yes_ ,” she says, dropping to her knees in front of Robin, framing her face in her hands as their lips crash together.

Breaking apart between kisses, Robin warns, “You’ll ruin your skirt!”

“I don’t _care_.”

“C’mon.” Laughter brims over and out of her, and Alice nods vehemently. ”Just let me—will you, Alice Jones—”

“Yes!”

“Alice Jones, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I _will_ marry you, Robin Mills. In this timeline and any other, I would always marry you.”

Robin surges forward for another kiss, and, “In this timeline and any other,” she repeats. “I like that.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You know what I love?” Alice asks one morning the following month.

The morning sun lights up their entire new apartment, spreading across the hardwood floor and reaching every hidden corner, and the curtains oscillate as Robin saunters forward, closing the distance between them.

Tugging at her hand and pulling her closer, Robin grins and pretends to be caught in contemplation. “Tea parties, a good puzzle. Freshly fallen snow.”

“I _do_ love that. I love that very much.” She peeks out the window, looking fairly disappointed at the blossoming spring she knew was bound to stare back. “No snow for the time being, though, not at all.”

“Okay, so what do you love in this particular moment?”

“You,” Alice says, leaning in and brushing her lips against Robin’s. “Very much, actually. But also--” She steps back ever so gently, waves a hand through the air that has them caught in white smoke for a split second. Then, grinning again: “Dressing for the occasion.”

“I’m glad you’re the one with a knack for magic,” Robin admits, peeking down at the outfit she wore during the resistance, the one she holds so dear still. “Suits you far better than it ever suited me. So, tell me—which realm awaits us today?”

Alice’s warm hand slips into Robin’s, and Robin wonders if her breath will ever cease hitching at the gesture.

(She hopes it doesn't.)

“Any of them. All of them.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, as always.
> 
> hmu if you wanna yell (please do. i got a lot of feelings about these two).


End file.
